Living Shadow
by BlackButterfly
Summary: THis is the early history of a earth pony named Emerald, and how she became to be known as Emerald Shadow...


* Emerald Shadow's Story – Living Shadow *

Chapter One: Verdant

__

"Dreamcatcher! Over here." Emerald's breath was half-stolen by laughter but she still managed to keep a step or two ahead of the children. They weren't expecting her to suddenly turn and grab the eldest, seven year old Bright Feather, and hold him down for his father to tickle.

"DA!" Feather squirmed, pale green sides heaving as he giggled. "Mercy, mercy!"

Dreamcatcher stepped back with a grin. "Very well, son." He ruffled Weaver's mane before he and his wife pounced on their second child, Moccasin.

"Hallo there, cousins!" A voice called weakly from the other side of the hill. "Having a good time, I gather?" A bright yellow pony with a white mane and tail waddled over the crest paused to catch her breath. She was near to giving birth now, and Emerald was surprised to see her so far from her home in Serendipity. 

"Daffodil! Hello…yes, yes we are. Care to join us?" Dreamcatcher tilted his head slightly and smiled. His warm, earthy-brown countenance never f ailed to earn a smile in return. Daffodil fairly beamed at him.

"Only wandered out to escape the hubby's hovering. Sent him out to find me some strawberries and slipped out the back door."

"You really should go back home now, Daff." Emerald walked up to her cousin and nuzzled Daffodil's swollen sides gently, her magic sending subtle tendrils out for anything even slightly amiss.

"The babe's fine, Em. So much went wrong with the last that I'd know it now!"

Emerald finally pulled back, satisfied. "Be careful anyway…we don't want to loose you." 

"I have faith in your healing skills." Daffodil winked and, after greeting the children, began her slow trip back home.

It started so quietly that even Emerald's skills at noticing the subtle wrongs in her village missed it. She handed out cough syrups with only a little concern, until they started coming back with fevers, and aching joints. Emerald could only treat them by the symptoms, for every time she tried to ferret out the cause with her magic, it eluded her.

She thought that they'd just ride out this strange storm when it claimed its first victim—old Merry, who'd always baked cakes and cookies for the children.

"What is this?" The green earth pony turned towards her books, though she could recall nothing similar ever mentioned in them. Her search turned frenzied when Bright Feather and then Moccasin started showing signs. It has always been her fear, since they'd been born—that she, a Healer who could not escape expose to disease, would bring something home with her. 

So much of her time was spent studying and nursing that she missed her own slight cough. Emerald had thought to send out a messenger, but the sickness seemed so contagious… she was determined not to be the one to send a strange plague out into Ponyland. 

More died. The eldest and the youngest first, though even the healthy poems in their prime sickened. If the original sickness passed, something else swept in behind it and attacked. 

At night she stumbled home and cried on Dreamcatcher's shoulder. "Don't worry about the children now," he told her gently one night, two weeks after the plague had begun. "I've watched you enough to know what to do. I'll tend them. Worry about the others… Is Daffodil okay?"

Emerald's pale blue eyes closed. "No," she said hoarsely. "Her daughter died this morning, and was buried by noon. She's in shock…and sick too. I might be able to save her if she gives up the child she carries, but she won't. I'll probably have her dead in my arms in a few days."

Dreamcatcher's grip on her tightened as she went into a coughing spasm. "Easy my love," he murmured. "Easy…sleep now. I'll make the syrups for you."

They all slept uneasy throughout the next week. The boys shared a room, and their combined coughing would have kept Emerald up even if she hadn't been coughing herself. Even Dreamcatcher—solid, robust Dreamcatcher—wasn't feeling right, though he tried to smile and act as if all was well. Come morning, Emerald was out again, making her rounds. At Cloud's cottage, while she was cradling Baby Spring Rain's cooling body in her arms, her own sweet Moccasin puffed out one last baby breath. Blessedly unaware, she went to Daffodil's…to face another tragedy. Between yesterday and today, the heart of Daffodil's husband had given up beneath the stress. Emerald found her cousin shivering before a cold hearth, the shovel in her hands still.

"Oh Daff…" The Healer pulled her close. Magic eased into Daffodil's shuddering form, warming her and calming the unborn babe. The fact that it—hmm, no, she—was alive was miracle enough to keep Emerald going. "Daff, will you be okay if I continue on? I can't stay…"

"NO!" Daffodil lurched to her feet. "I will NOT be okay! They took my Tulip from me—now North Star is gone too. Who is left to be okay for?"

"Your child…your daughter. She hasn't even lived yet…can't you be okay for her?"

The bedraggled yellow pony stared at her. "Yes…" she finally whispered. "Yes. For my daughter. I will be okay for my daughter. I will protect her…"

Pressed for time, Emerald could only spare a hug before she ran out the door. 

Darkness rose. Nose nearly brushing her knees, Emerald walked into her dim home. "Dream? Feather? Moccasin?" No one answered at first, and her heart whispered…they're asleep. Her mind retreated in fear. 

"I waited for you, love…" 

She finally spotted Dreamcatcher when he spoke. His russet fur had blended into the wall, which he leaned against with a desperation his wife ignored.

"You didn't have to. You should have slept—you need it. You know I always wander home eventually." She gave him a wan smile. 

"I wouldn't have woken." 

The fear Emerald had been fighting leapt into her eyes. "Dream—"

"Em. You knew we were all sick." 

"And I left anyway…I'm sorry…oh love, I'm sorry…" She buried her face into his shoulder, damp as it was with fever-sweat. "Should have stayed home…"

"Don't be sorry Em. Your duty is to them first. I knew that when I married you. You did no less for us than you did for anyone else, and God knows that's all you could have done."

"The children?"

"Gone…my precious Emerald, I am the one who should be sorry. I'm trying to live, for you, but it's slipping. If I hadn't tried to act as if I was fine…" He trailed of into a coughing fit. When he pulled the handkerchief away from his mouth, it was stained with blood. 

She shushed any further words from him, and held him. Up until she knew he was gone, she murmured over and over into his ear, "I love you…"

Emerald curled in the fetal position at the feet of her dead children's beds. Their blankets lay as they'd left them when their bodies were removed for burial. All this time, she hadn't cried…it all came out at once. When the tears were gone, she raged with her voice. Her screams cut even into Daffodil's cloak of misery, for Emerald bore a weight of failure. She'd been the Healer, the only one the village had ever needed. Yet she hadn't even been able to save her own family, and precious few of the village folk. She'd always been concerned more for the living than the dead, but now the dead haunted her…

The pain was driven into her mind like a sword through wet clay. Try as she might, the damage would never be entirely undone…hidden yes, but it would always remain inside. It was best to stand back, to watch, so as to never risk that cutting again. Riven once, twice would be the death of her. For reasons beyond her grasp she didn't want that…yet. There was enough Healer left in her to cling to life.

A shadow of the pony named Emerald walked out of Serendipity.

Chapter Two: Cimmerian

She lay on the seat set in the wide bay window, nose gently pressed against the cold glass. She hadn't done much since she'd come upon this mountain haunt—eat a little of the food that appeared, sleep when sheer exhaustion was a wall to the dreams, and read. A library took up an entire floor, and one book seemed to snare her attention. It bore neither title nor author, and detailed the entire history of the Tower. 

The Obsidian Tower was older than the lake its reflection fell upon. Ages before a Mage had formed it of seamless obsidian, and not even Time had been able to bring it down. Her name had been Liadon, also called the Grey Lady. The lake had been formed at her death, the result of an unnamed final spell.

After its Mistresses' death, it had lain empty and waiting. Others had found it over the centuries but they had been found unworthy, and the Tower subtly thwarted them all. Perhaps Emerald's own insinuating magic is why it chose her…

Emerald shook off the idle thoughts and stared at the reflection on the lake. When the moon came to claim that part of the world, and the shadows followed, the lake took up a glow. Lights seemed to move within its depths. For the first time she felt enough interest stir in her to walk down the nine flights of stairs and approach the shore.

The sand was white and threw back the moonbeams. Emerald stepped up to the water's edge and tried to find the drifting lights again, her patience stretching beyond its normal bounds. When a yellow one darted past her view, she took a few involuntary steps forward into the water.

And she Saw…

Daffodil lay in her bed, surrounded by the Plague survivors the Emerald had left behind—all of six hardy ponies. Labor pains had her nearly doubled up.

"It's alive, then?" Silver Bell glanced at the young Unicorn that was serving as midwife.

"Alive or not, it needs to come out." Dancing Rain gently nosed Daffodil's dampened mane off her neck.

"SHE!" Daffodil panted. "My child…is a she!"

Silver Bell looked at Daffodil, brow crinkled slightly. "How do you know?" 

"Emerald…told me…"

"Before she left?" Silver Bell's hoof thudded dully on the floor. 

"Silver," Dancing Rain said, her words clipped. "Quiet or leave." The Unicorn ignored everyone else then, focusing on young Daffodil and her unborn child. The babe was weak, but fighting still. "I admire your will, little one," she whispered. "Now, Daff my dear—push when I tell you…"

It took three hours of pushing on Daffodil's part as well as coaxing and magic by Dancing Rain to get the foal into the world alive.

She was parchment colored, her mane and tail drying to dark green. A white rose adored her hip as her symbol. 

"Petals and leaves," Daffodil had said softly before she fell asleep. 

"White rose for sorrow." Dancing Rain sighed softly and slipped out of the cottage.

Emerald's nose dipped into the water as her knees buckled. _::What was that..?:: _Her thoughts were so sluggish she almost drowned before she was able to get to her feet. 

_::A drop on the web.::_

She froze on the shore. "What?"

_::A drop on the web that the grey one wove…:: _

"Where are you? Who—"

_::I was granted no name that you can use.::_

"But where—"

::Everywhere, as you shall be some day. For now rest, and heal. Learn the web and its ways. When the time comes, I'll find you again…::

Emerald returned to the Tower, looking over her shoulder nearly every step of the way.

A Year Later

Emerald seldom stirred from the Tower or the lakeside. The outside world no longer interested her. The walls she had crafted for herself were cold, lonely…and comforting. 

Her mind and heart were numb. She Watched life flow around her, only dabbling in its depths if she touched that water at all.

Her room was her haven. It was small and quiet, if dark. She had slowly peeled off the dust covers to discover stately mahogany furniture beneath.

The mirror in the room had remained hidden. Emerald had grown to hate mirrors—she remembered too much of Dreamweaver standing behind her as she fixed her hair, smiling and telling her that no matter what, she was beautiful. 

The sheet fell off before her while her mind wandered and a cloud of dust pooled around her feet. Startled, Emerald glanced up. Her eyes locked on the reflection and she flinched back.

Black. Her eyes had over the year changed to black—no color marred the inky depths. 

::Eyes are the window to the soul.::

She didn't jump, nor freeze this time. "You're back."

::As promised. Now look, remnant of the one named Emerald. See with your inner eye what is left of your self.::

"I have no 'inner eye'," Emerald glanced over her shoulder.

_::Justice is blind, and so is denial.:: _The ethereal speaker fell silent but Emerald felt her hair tingle. Cold touched her mind, a frozen blade, and there was a slight wrenching. Her world spun. 

::Now, wraith of the one named Emerald. The worlds of Light and Dark are cracked open for you,::

Emerald stared at her reflection. Her coat had darkened, fading to black on her legs and muzzle. Ebon hair fell into her eyes and draped across the floor. 

::The doors are cracked only. Now take the Gifts I have given you, and learn. Come the dark of the moon I shall see you. Mayhaps, mayhaps you'll see me.:: 

"Wait! What have you done? What—"

::No children shall there be issued from the Gray One's daughter. Immortal and alone, she be. Until the legacy passes onto a third…a third! The doors are cracked. Not open, only cracked…:: The voice faded out of Emerald's mind like water through sand, until she couldn't remember the sound. When she turned away from the mirror, a sterling dire flail lay on her pillow.

Three weeks hence no moon rose above the horizon. Emerald stood on the shore of the Tower lake, searching the depths for the lights and finding none. 

::Emerald Shadow.::

"That is not my name."

::It is what I shall call you, and how you shall come to be known to the world.::

A name floated to the surface of Emerald's thoughts, pulled from her reading. If the Gray One was Liadon, and this voice her daughter…

"Aedeminar." 

Shock not her own rolled through her.

::I am remembered…? No, no, you never knew me! YOU NEVER KNEW ME!::

"Only what was written," Emerald whispered.

::The Tower's book…:: Aedeminar paused, then changed topics. Emerald was still dizzy from the wave of emotions she'd felt. Beyond the shock there had been…dismay, fear. Failure. A burden, of both time and guilt. 

::Emerald Shadow. You will take up your flail now...:: 

Chapter Three: Sable

12 Years Later

Seven years she'd passed at the Tower learning from Aedeminar, never seeing her teacher. Hints and whispers were her tools, but she wielded them well. 

There would be no more Serendipitys, where death crept up on ponies left unawares. She did not save all that way, though she tried…and more evil swept the land now. Illness was not her only bane. 

So she wandered. Four years now she had wandered, Watching and tugging on the web where it served her purpose. When a suggestion in a ponies mind wasn't enough, and stronger insinuations failed…she came in person. 

Thus Emerald Shadow had come to the heart of Ponyland.

Other reasons dogged her heels. Baby White Rose had grown, and changed like her mother. Bitterness had turned Daffodil red, and her mind bitter, until the name she chose of Vendetta suited her well. 

White Rose had become Broken Vow, a silent subservient pony colored like parchment and ink, a broken orb on her flank where a rose once flowered. Like the orb, her will lay shattered. 

Emerald Shadow had some small hope of claiming her from her dam's madness, if and when their fight against the dark ended and either of them were left standing.

_::Remember, Emerald Shadow, more changed in you than your body and your mind in the Obsidian Tower. Its blood flows through yours.::_

A slight nod was all Aedeminar was given in the way of acknowledgement. Her words could still mystify.

The other reason for her appearance pulled at her now. "Espionage…where dost thou wander?"

Kinship bound her here like a rope, even if she hadn't wanted to help the ponies of Dream Castle. Now others had attracted her interest. _I am having a web woven around myself…_

Emerald Shadow shook her head violently. She did not like the feeling, but what was she to do now? The strands were sticky and strong. 

She wrapped the shadows around herself, slipping across miles going from one, to another. It was not hard to find Vendetta and Broken Vow, for blood called to blood, and their aura's were distinct and strong. 

Vendetta pulsed red and orange, other colors muddying it to a brackish brown around the edges. The colors seemed to thrash and it hurt for Emerald Shadow to look at them long. Broken Vow was a hundred shades of gray, all of them slowly moving like a lazy river. Also like a river, deeper currents lurked beneath. As she watched, Emerald Shadow noticed an occasional flicker of red.

_::Keep strong but silent, cousin…watch and wait for your time.::_

Broken Vow's ears flicked in all directions…then she nodded.

Momentarily contented, the Cimmerian watcher retreated to the Tower. Her time was also coming.

_::If we can but live out the moment…::_


End file.
